


Size Matters Enormously

by Anonymous



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: cabinpres_fic, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	Size Matters Enormously

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crocodile_eat_u](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodile_eat_u/gifts).



"I-I'm sorry, that was, that was completely unprofessional of me," Martin babbled, going red in the face and shying away from Douglas.

Douglas looked entirely too smug, and not put off in the slightest.

"It's all right, Martin, you wouldn't be the first person to be driven to somewhat unprofessional behaviour by the sight of The Richardson..."

Martin felt his face grow hotter, and couldn't stop a quick look to the towel that now hid the aforementioned natural wonder.

"It's all right, I'm fully aware of the sizeable advantage I have over most men. I just hope the natural envy you're bound to be feeling won't affect our professional relationship."

"Envy?" Martin's brain hadn't fully caught up with things, still busy going over (and over, and over) the all-too-briefly glimpsed image. "I'm not, not envious, this is a totally... non-enviable thing."

"Is it now?" Douglas' eyebrow rose high in disbelief.

He was taunting him, he had to be - well, this was Douglas, of course he was. How could anyone, especially someone as infuriatingly clever as Douglas, mistake his blush, his _stares_ , he'd been openly _staring_ at Douglas' cock for as long as it had been in view, for _envy_?

"No, really, I don't, I don't envy you - as you often point out, I'm not as tall as you are, I'd topple over at every step if I had- that between my legs."

As soon as the words left his mouth, never having gone through the brain in the first place, Martin knew they'd been a mistake. Not so much for what Douglas would make of them - Douglas could find amusement in Martin saying "Good morning" - but for what the words did to _him_. He felt his face go even hotter, as a mental image crashed over him: The Richardson, between his legs - attached to the actual Richardson, of course - and thrust powerfully-

"Martin?" Douglas sing-songed, and Martin's train of thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Douglas was talking. What was he saying?

"Yes, I do have to say it looks like another one of the Seven."

"Uh- what? What does?"

"You look more red than green."

"Uh. Um, sorry?"

"No need to apologise... I've always favoured Lust over Envy myself, too."

Oh God, Martin thought, he'd figured it out, he had, he was caught, busted-

"I'm sorry!" he burst out. "I didn't mean to stare, I-I-I just couldn't help it - oh God, that's not better, is it, I-I-I'll just... show myself out, shall I."

He made for the door, but something stopped him. Douglas- it was Douglas' hand, on his arm. Martin froze.

"You don't have to. As good as you look on your way out, I don't want the door to close on that sight and deprive me of it..."

Did he- did he just say what Martin thought he said? He dared a questioning look at Douglas. Douglas looked, of course, smug - when didn't he? But also honest - well, as honest as Douglas ever looked.

"Compliment for compliment," Douglas said nonchalantly. "You seemed to admire my front, I thought I'd share my views about your back."

"So you're not, er, you don't find it creepy and off-putting and aren't going to ask for a restraining order?"

"No." Douglas' voice held that deep, mesmerising tone he sometimes used when scheming. "I'm going to make an experiment."

He stepped back a few paces, making sure Martin was following him with his eyes, then he- Martin felt his mouth go dry again. Or start drooling, it was hard to tell. He had no choice but to stare again, as Douglas had thrown open the accursed towel.

* * *

Douglas was fairly certain what he was looking at was a horny Martin, but he liked to be _really_ certain.

As soon as he'd unwrapped the towel, Martin's gaze went briefly to his face, as if seeking permission, then... eyes on the prize, as the saying went.

Well, wasn't that an interesting development. Douglas felt the stirrings of arousal under the intense gaze.

"I'd say, Martin, you don't seem to be averse to looking upon my magnificent manhood. Proud prick. Colossal cock."

He might as well have recited the multiplication table, or announced he had the solution to the global economic crisis. He took a step closer to Martin, who didn't move.

"Now, if you still had your wits - such as they are - about you, you'd remark how I don't seem to mind being looked upon either. In fact, I feel myself positively swelling with pride under your hot scrutiny, Captain."

Martin blinked and licked his lips.

Douglas covered himself again.

"Sorry to be depriving you of the object of your concentrated gaze. It's just for the sake of having a coherent conversation."

"Oh," Martin said, swallowing hard and finally looking back at Douglas' face. His face went even redder, the splotches of colour on his cheeks making his blue-grey eyes stand out more. "S-so sorry, Douglas, I- Oh God. So-so..."

His speech was tinged with the lisp he sometimes got, the lisp that Douglas suspected came back unbidden at times of great stress after Martin fought it off since childhood.

"Hush, Martin, I said I was more than fine with it. Now, am I wrong in inferring that you might have a bit of a soft spot for a huge hard-on?"

"Oh God, it's just going to be size puns from now to the end of forever, isn't it? All right, I-I-I have a bit of-""

"A lot of, I'd say-"

"A lot of appreciation for, um. That- that kind of. That."

"Martin, I had no idea you had _any_ appreciation for the male shape, much less for its... extreme manifestations."

"Yes, all right, should have started with that probably - I like men, and it's not all extremes, just the... big ones. Happy now?"

" _Quite_ happy. You know how much I like having something to tease you about."

Martin covered his face with his hands - though not before stealing another glance in the direction of the towel, Douglas noted.

"You're going to hold it over me all the time, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'll sneak it into every conversational corner," Douglas drawled. "I'll whip it out at every opportunity."

Martin uncovered half of his face, quirking a smile.

"It's not the easiest thing to sneak anywhere, I'd think."

"But well worth the effort," Douglas countered.

"Hmm, I can imagine."

Did Martin sound.. wistful? As an experiment, Douglas took the towel off again.

"Oh, Douglas, that's just cruel now!" Martin moaned.

"Is it? Holding it over you... or holding it out of your reach?"

A tent was beginning to take shape in Martin's pyjama pants. Douglas took a step closer, and Martin didn't pull back.

"Would you like to touch it?"

"Yes!" Martin blurted out. "Yes, yes, yes. Yes! I want to touch it, and lick it, and suck it, and I've never done this before but I think I'd like to-to shove it up my bum as well!"

The tent in Martin's trousers was swelling as he spoke, while his breath quickened into a panting crescendo; Douglas was unsurprised to feel his own cock harden too. Martin licked his lips. Then dropped to his knees.

"Hmm, not even dinner and wine first?" Douglas asked, hearing his own voice lasciviously low and husky.

"We've just had dinner, and you don't drink wine. And-and I don't _need_ wine."

It was the most coherent Martin had been since he'd first set eyes upon The Richardson. He looked Douglas in the eyes. Douglas gave his approval with a nod.

"Well then, proceed at your leisure, Martin," he added in a low murmur.

* * *

Once allowed to touch, however, Martin didn't know where to begin. He took his time, trying out the weight and girth of the gorgeous erection with both his hands. He felt Douglas twitch and stifle a groan as he circled his member between thumb and middle finger, and couldn't make a full circle.

He took hold of it with both hands, guiding the head to his lips. He was definitely drooling, no doubt about it now. Martin opened his mouth and gave a lick all around the huge round head. He could feel it swelling further on his tongue; arousal shot hotly though his own neglected prick; he shifted his legs so he could get some friction between his thighs, then resumed lavishing attention on the hot flesh between his lips.

Wetting his lips, he dragged them sidewise along the full length; the tip of his tongue traced the skin, the veins pulsing hotly under the surface, all the way to the base, where his nose was tickled by Douglas' coarse pubic hair. He pursed his lips into a sort of a kiss, then traced his lips back in the same way, but on the underside.

He could hear Douglas groan and pant above him, and then inhale sharply as Martin ended the downward trip with a firm lick inside the slit. He tasted the salty drops, and spread them around with his tongue.

Up and down, up and down; his lips tingled from the friction, sending hot signals to the pleasure centre in his belly. He licked inside the slit again, as if he wanted to burrow his tongue in there, lapping up the fresh precome.

Martin ached for more, longed to take the full thing in his mouth and go for it until he could taste the full release. He stretched his jaws tentatively. He had to make himself ready first, and he also wanted to make the most of this chance, to make the feast last as long as he'd be allowed.

"Martin!" Douglas hissed, commanding and needy in the same time; the sound blazed its path along Martin's nerves; hearing the effect he had increased his arousal tenfold, and suddenly he knew what would make the experience even better. His cheeks burned hotter. If only he knew how to ask for it.

Making a wide O of his lips, he bobbed his head, earning another groan from above his head; Douglas' hips jerked forward, pushing the heavy cock against Martin's tongue. Martin wasn't ready yet, and the sudden invasion made him gasp and whimper.

"Martin?"

Douglas paused, looking carefully at the whimpering man in front of him. He had nothing but pride for his sizeable prick, of course, but he couldn't forget the words of one of his first girlfriends. "Careful, Dougie, you could hurt someone with that monster!" She was winking as she spoke, but Douglas couldn't shake off her words entirely.

He was doing his level best to hold back, to let Martin do what he seemed very willing to do in his own rhythm, but he was only human.

"Martin?" he asked softly.

Martin's hands tightened around him; his eyes, darkened with lust, didn't seem to hold any pain. Then the tight ring of his lips moved downwards, until it left the head of his cock with a soft popping sound.

"Would you, ah, would you," Martin seemed awfully shy for a man who'd just done what he did, so it must be something he was afraid Douglas would mock him for.

"Anything, Martin," Douglas soothed, in what he felt was his most seductively reassuring voice.

"Would you... talk to me?"

"Of course. What should the subject- Martin, I'm not talking about planes," Douglas said, somewhat less huskily and suavely, because if anyone _would_ , that was Martin.

"No, no," Martin laughed breathlessly, and oh, blew hot air over Douglas' sensitive, wet skin. "About- this, what- I'm doing, and what it's doing for you?"

"Ah, yes, of course. My pleasure. What you're doing to me right now should be forbidden by law, and it's called teasing. Keeping your mouth an inch away from my cock, after giving it a taste..."

Martin grinned, and gave it another lick from tip to base. Douglas moaned, throwing his head back.

Martin smacked his lips, and Douglas felt himself blush with the sheer unconscious obscenity of the sound.

"Just getting used to the size of it. It looks even bigger from this close. Stupidly big. Really enormous."

"Yes," Douglas struggled to articulate without panting, and almost succeeded, "now that we've established my cock is like Russia..."

Martin giggled, and Douglas felt it on his skin again.

"No, no, it's not far bigger than necessary. It's just right, luxuriously big. Gorgeously... engorged. I've no idea how I'm going to fit it," he said, sounding rather happy.

"Inch by inch?" Douglas quipped.

Instead of laughing, Martin moaned, and within seconds he was back in business.

* * *

"Look at that," Douglas growled, voice hoarse and ragged. "I can stroke my cock through your cheek." He caressed Martin's cheek gently, tracing the outline of his shaft. Martin whimpered, hollowing his cheeks further. "On both sides," Douglas continued, framing Martin's face with his hands, massaging softly into the strained muscles.

"I don't know what you think of the view from down there, but from up here it's _delightful_. I love the look of your lips, so red and swollen from rubbing along my length. You have rather lush and plump lips, have I ever told you that? You wouldn't know it now, though, with the way they're stretched so thin around my absolutely enormous cock."

Martin moaned deep in his throat, the sound muffled by the thick weight in his mouth. He pulled his head back slowly, keeping his lips tightly closed around the shaft. He pulled back as far as he needed to be able to move his tongue - a swirl was impossible, but he could rasp the flattened planes of his tongue on the underside, could feel the texture of the head on the base of his tongue, and catch the delicious drops of precome.

He breathed heavily, inhaling the salty scent of Douglas' skin, then slid his lips forward. He'd done this countless times, each time to a heavier groan from Douglas, a momentary tightening of his hands in Martin's hair, an involuntary twitch of his hips forward.

Each move brought forward the sensation of friction, the sensuous slide, but Martin loved the inwards slide most. The feel of the hard length invading his mouth, pushing his tongue back, stretching his mouth to its limits... He moaned helplessly, feeling his own cock go harder, leaking precome. If he could spare a hand, he'd have rubbed at himself, but he didn't care about that right now. Both his hands were too happy holding the base of Douglas' cock, guiding it deeper inside.

His throat burned with the anger of his suppressed gag reflex. Martin forced it open, commanded it, and the effort brought hot tears on his cheeks. It was an exquisite, delightful torture.

He heard Douglas gasp and inhale sharply after the first tears slid out, then a gentle hand swept his hair back from his forehead.

"Martin?" he asked in a low voice. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Martin didn't know how to reply to that, didn't want to part from that wonderful feeling of being filled to the brim, so he tightened his hand around Douglas' cock, and brought the other to caress Douglas' balls.

"I know you can't speak or even nod, so blink once for yes and twice for no, all right?" Douglas' voice made more sense than his words, so soft and gentle, so unlike the unforgiving thickness of the flesh in his mouth. "Do you understand me?"

Martin commanded his eyelids to close once, slowly.

"Are you all right?"

Again, Martin blinked once, languidly.

"Would you also be all right with me taking hold of your head to keep it still and thrusting in your mouth at my discretion?"

Martin whimpered, finding somehow the space to hollow out his cheeks and make a suction motion. His eyes closed of their own accord, and he forced them to open carefully, so he wouldn't blink twice by mistake.

"Thank you," Douglas growled, his voice seeming to come out of his chest directly. "I love the way you surround me, all velvety slick hotness. I can feel the ridges on the roof of your mouth, and the texture of your tongue."

He kept a tight hold on Martin's neck with one hand, and framed his wet chin with the other. He slid back, slowly.

"I love the circle of your lips, so tight but" he shoved forward "yielding to my girth. I adore the way your throat clenches around me," he added, thrusting deeper. "I love the way your hair is plastered with sweat on your forehead, and I delight in your hot tears on my skin."

He set out a rhythm, and Martin could tell his climax was nearing. He anticipated the hot flood of semen, and prepared to take it all in.

"I can feel your moans from the tip of my prick to my balls, and I can tell how much you love this too. And that's what I love most of all, how happy and eager you are to fit my utterly enormous cock inside your slim body."

Martin moaned, shutting his eyes against the hot pleasure that he felt with all his nerves. Burning, jaw ache, tears, his own straining erection, Douglas' _voice_...

Douglas slid out a few inches, and Martin struggled to keep hold of him. He needn't have worried, as the cock was only pulled back as far as his mouth; he felt the tell-tale hot pulse before salty liquid was added to the onslaught of sensations. He swallowed greedily what he could, letting the rest fill his mouth, spill over his lips, dribble on his chin.

Martin didn't know when he'd moved his hands to his own cock, but he realised he'd done it when he squeezed himself tighter and came harder than he'd ever had with any man or woman, harder even than in his solitary pursuits.

His muffled groans mingled with Douglas'. He felt a heavy hand lean on his shoulders, then Douglas' ragged panting was level with him. Martin sat back on his haunches, too exhausted to keep the kneeling position. Douglas' arms caught hold of him, and his warm weight settled around Martin.

Minutes seem to pass before either of them spoke, and Martin was quite happy to float in the afterglow.

"That was... tremendous," Douglas said languidly. "You must have the jaws of a boa, mon Capitaine."

"Of course," Martin mumbled with unusual difficulty, "the Richardson sarcasm flies again."

"I'm not complaining," Douglas added quickly. "Especially since I _am_ worth three men."

Martin huffed a laugh. He massaged his jaws carefully. The ache should have been annoying, now that the fever of the moment was consumed, but instead it was a reminder of the pleasure. His hands were joined by Douglas'. He caressed Martin's cheeks tenderly, almost apologetically, and Martin felt them set aflame with the fresh memory of Douglas stroking his own cock through them.

"It was absolutely delightful," Douglas said. "Although I'm getting this odd feeling that you only like me for my prick. I feel so used..."

"Douglas!" Martin protested. Oh no, had he really... made Douglas feel like that?

"Oh, Martin, I should know better than to expect your wits to recover so quickly. I'm only teasing. But..."

Douglas leant forward, bringing their mouths close enough to touch; Martin felt his breath quicken, and his eyes widen.

"May I kiss you, Captain?" Douglas asked softly; a shiver went through Martin from head to toe.

"Well, I- uh, I mean, you know where this mouth has been," Martin said weakly, feeling his fears and uncertainty settle over him like a dust cloud.

"Especially because of where your mouth has been," Douglas said firmly.

His kisses did little to restore coherent thought to Martin's mind, but made all the difference in melting his doubts away. Douglas stroked his hair, caressed his neck, squeezed him tightly in his arms, and Martin yielded, bringing his own arms around Douglas in an embrace, clinging to his warm, reassuring bulk.


End file.
